About Me
I am a South African composer and songwriter, and music has shaped my life for nearly five decades. I began piano at the age of seven, sang in choir throughout my school years, and spent years performing as a rhythm guitarist before composition became my primary voice. Over time, I realised I was not only playing music — I was hearing it everywhere.
I hear rhythm in crickets, layered pulses in evening insects, movement in the natural soundscape around me. Where others hear background noise, I hear phrasing and structure. For me, music is language. Composition is how I translate what I hear into something intentional and shareable.
Every piece I write begins on paper. I still compose by hand, working through harmony before anything reaches a screen. From manuscript, the music moves into notation software and only then into a digital audio workstation for staging. Due to medical limitations, I no longer perform instruments physically, which has deepened my reliance on inner hearing and structural clarity. Harmony is where I find flow. If I listen carefully enough, the progression reveals where the piece wants to go.
My work is not confined to a single genre. Over the years I have composed across jazz, neo-soul, metal, punk, ballads, cinematic, and orchestral forms. While my personal creative leanings gravitate toward cinematic and orchestral storytelling, the foundation remains the same: emotion first, harmony shaping movement, structure carrying the narrative.
I have written commissioned works, contributed to film-related projects, and composed for sync placements. My orchestral pieces have found particular resonance in Europe, especially in France and Italy — regions with long-standing classical traditions and deeply engaged orchestral audiences. Several of my works have also been interpreted by other artists, including “Forever Loving You,” originally written for my wife and later covered by the Portuguese band The Traveller and the Sorrow.
In 2025, I was granted permission to compose music for the poem “As jy Wou” by internationally acclaimed South African poet Antjie Krog. Writing for such a respected literary voice required sensitivity to tone, heritage, and emotional weight. The composition was built directly from the poem itself, with an original chorus woven into its structure — a project I consider one of my defining artistic milestones.
My collaborations span internationally, with current and recent projects involving artists from South Africa, Brazil, Mexico, India, the United States, and China. Working across cultures reinforces what I have always believed: harmony is a universal language.
Alongside commissioned and collaborative work, I continue to build my own body of albums.
Breaths of Wood, a full acoustic collection of contemporary ballads, has been submitted for distribution and is scheduled for release on 15 March. The album returns to simplicity — resonance, space, and melodic clarity.
Avalon, a cinematic instrumental project inspired by The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley, explores character and atmosphere through orchestration rather than lyrics. What began as a short piece, “Avalon’s Crossing,” evolved into a broader narrative journey.
Echoes Without Thunder takes a more rhythm-driven instrumental direction, grounded in everyday truths, while For You is a deeply personal collection of musical dedications to those closest to me — my wife, my daughter, my late father — each piece written as a musical letter.
Beyond composition, I work as an FET music educator, mentoring young musicians and emphasising foundation, harmony, and craft. Trends shift. Structure endures. My goal is not only to create music, but to help others understand how it is built.
I have also been selected for an upcoming feature in the Australian multidisciplinary arts magazine Cult Following.
Currently, I am entered into three composition competitions — orchestral, cinematic, and general composition — closing in April. It is simply another way of remaining active in the craft.
For me, music is not decoration. It is narrative. It is structure. It is conversation. And as long as I continue to hear it, I will continue to write it.